


A Right Mixture of Mechanisms

by shella688



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Costume Parties & Masquerades, Found Family, Frankenstein's AI deserved better I WILL die on this hill, Gen, HATTER AND HARE GET MARRIED IN CHAPTER 6, Hades!Ashes, No Octokittens Were Harmed In The Making Of This Fic, Persephone!Tim, Rated Teen for mechs-typical violence and swearing, Repairing Clothes To Secretly Show You Care, fleshrora rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26811316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shella688/pseuds/shella688
Summary: A series of small fics, written forMechtober!Each chapter is standalone
Relationships: (it could read as romantic too though if that's your thing), Ashes O'Reilly & Gunpowder Tim, Hatter (The Mechanisms) / Hare (The Mechanisms), The Aurora & The Toy Soldier, The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina, The Mechs & Each other
Comments: 103
Kudos: 108





	1. Days 1-3:  Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Jonny does some embroidery

Jonny d'Ville isn’t a nice person. He doesn’t feel sorry for the people he kills, he isn’t kept up at night by the memories of what he’s done, and he _definitely_ doesn’t like the crew he’s forced to spend the rest of eternity with.

Nastya’s too tall and Brian’s too loud and the Toy Soldier is too cheerful and Ashes cheats at cards and Tim’s hair is too good and Ivy is too sarcastic and Raphaella blows things up too much and Marius has too much energy all the time.

In short, he hates them.

So when Brian just leaves his waistcoat hanging over the back of the pilot’s chair, with that rip in the side that absolutely should _not_ have been left to get so big, he is - direct quote - “fucking disgusted at the state of dress of you fuckers”.

Jonny doesn’t, of course, say this out loud, because that would imply he enjoys talking to the other members of his crew. He also doesn’t tell Brian when, that night, he steals the waistcoat and sews the rip up, replacing a button on the verge of falling off whilst he’s at it.

His mother never sewed him shit, but she did teach him a fair bit about this sort of stuff.

*

Jonny d'Ville is - direct quote again - “five foot four and full of rage instead of manners”. He doesn’t do nice things for people, ever.

But Ivy’s socks have huge holes in the heels, and even though she insists they’re fine Jonny wants to shake her and shout that _you’re just making them harder to fix later on for fuck’s sake!_

The socks disappear one night and come back with the heels patched and, naturally, no-one comes forward to take responsibility.

Then the frayed elbows of Tim’s coat get fixed. Next, Ashes’ trousers get re-hemmed. Later, a rose is embroidered over the part of the Toy Soldier’s shirt that it accidently stained with tea.

No-one ever admits to doing it, though Nastya blames the spiders.

*

And then, one day, Marius leaves.

No note, no explanation, nothing beyond a hastily made bed and a pod missing out the docking bay.

Jonny doesn’t care, of course. That would imply he regarded Marius as something approaching a friend, which he doesn’t. Marius’ll come back anyway.

A week passes.

Another.

A month.

A year. 

Time doesn’t mean much to immortals but even so, this is a long time. Not that it worries Jonny, of course.

That night, Marius’ coat goes missing. It wasn’t damaged or fraying, which the rest of the crew found odd, having got used to someone stealing and fixing clothes, but nevertheless none of them could find it.

They couldn’t find Jonny either. Not in his hiding spot, deep within Aurora, where even the spiders don’t weave their webs.

He stayed there for- gods, he lost track. Days, maybe more, all of them spent hunched over that coat, sewing and sewing.

*

Marius came back eventually. They always do, something inside them bringing them back to Aurora no matter how far they roam.

He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, muttering something about mechas and the need for closure as he made a beeline for his room.

He sighed in relief as he saw the coat, folded neatly on his chair where he’d left it. The weight of it in his hands, on his shoulders as he slipped it on, was comforting- something Marius hadn’t realised he had missed.

Then he caught sight of the back of it in the mirror, and gasped.

“Stars,” said Jonny quietly, and Marius spun around to face the intruder with a start.

“Embroidered stars,” Jonny continued, acting like he hadn’t just snuck into Marius’ room. “It’s a map of everywhere we’ve visited together, a memory, in case you didn’t come back.”

Marius grasped desperately for a way to reply but Jonny was already gone, quick as he’d arrived, grabbing a shirt with a loose button as he went.

*

Jonny d'Ville can tell you the name of every star he’s visited with his crew, he can draw the journeys they’ve taken together across the universe on a map- several maps even. He remembers how excited Raphaella was the first time she saw a star up close, he can name three of Ivy’s top five favourite stars though he always butchers the pronunciation of number two, and he wishes he could apologise to Brian properly for Avalon, but he knows Brian wouldn’t believe him.

To make it clear, Jonny d'Ville _hates_ his crew.


	2. Days 4-6: Octokittens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it is a lovely day onboard Aurora, and you are a horrible octokitten

First, you decide to steal the Old Bookmark from the Archivist. Why? Well why not! Morals are for people with fewer legs.

The Archivist spends most of the day in the Library, reshelving books, curled up in a chair reading, or threatening people who interrupt her doing either of those things. And someone as well-read as she has some _very_ inventive threats.

You enter the Library easy enough, through the octokitten flap someone so helpfully put there. And… there! There she is, lying on the floor, engrossed in reading a Book. The Old Bookmark is on the table to her left, just out of her line of sight. Easy!

You gloop past some bookshelves, dodging the Squeaky Floorboard (this isn't your first Old Bookmark stealing rodeo) and swiping the Old Bookmark with one slightly radioactive tentacle. Then you're off, leaving the Library before the Archivist even finishes her chapter.

You throw the Old Bookmark into the Gunner's room, because it will be _hilarious_ when she finds it there.

**_Success!_ **

**_*_ **

Next, you decide you want to disrupt a card game. Not _badly_ disrupt, of course, but everyone knows the Quartermaster cheats, and you just want to prove it.

The Quartermaster is playing cards with the Engineer down in Cargo Bay D. The difficulty here comes from the fact that if either of them notice you, they won't _hesitate_ to throw you out the Airlock, or toss you into the Engines. It won't kill you, but waiting to respawn is effort.

And, just like you thought, the Quartermaster has five aces in their hand.

You swing yourself up some Crates, hiding out of either of their sights. You take a deep, deep, deep, deep breath. No, deeper than that. Deeper. How the hell are you breathing in so deeply?

Then you make a **sound**.

Not just any old sound. A **sound**.

It sounds like if you'd mixed a purr with a screech, bass-boosted the result, then played it backwards.

The Engineer and Quartermaster flinch violently, dropping and spilling cards all over the table. As they gather up the cards, you see the Engineer stop, frowning.

She's noticed the fifth ace and she is _not_ impressed.

_**Success!** _

*

The final challenge you set yourself is to piss off the first mate (captain). This by itself is easy enough, he hates octokittens just in general - the challenge is to be alive, onboard the ship, and in one piece by the end of it.

He's in the Kitchen, which he's actually under three lifetime bans from, but none of that has stopped him yet! If he's cooking food, you do not want to eat any of it. You may be a mostly-immortal, possibly-eldritch, very-squelchy being but at least you have taste.

One tentacle over the doorway. 

Two 

Four 

Fi-

The captain (first mate) says something in a threatening tone of voice. It might be directed at you, or the "food", but octokittens can't understand the language the crew speak except when it's funny for them to do so, so whatever he says is wasted on you.

No matter!

You're moving your eighth tentacle over the doorway when all at once Jonny spins, throwing a Rolling Pin at you, _hard_.

There is a sound best described as a **_schlorp_**.

You look down in distaste at the Rolling Pin that's been partially absorbed by your body, and is sticking slightly out of either end of your torso. You gurgle angrily.

The first captain mate doesn't care. He just picks you up with a Towel and tosses you out the Airlock.

Well.

That was fun whilst it lasted.


	3. Days 7-9: UDAD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hades and Persephone attend a ball

The ball was the talk of the City. Anyone who thought anything of themselves would be there, from the lowliest satyr to the Olympians themselves. 

Ostensibly, the ball was being held to celebrate Zeus and Hera’s 100 year wedding anniversary, the two of them just as devoted to each other now as they were when they first met. In practise, that meant their distaste for each other was still buried under a thin veneer of politeness, that Zeus still had bastard children popping up all over the City, that Hera’s status as the benevolent wife was a still just as much of a carefully crafted persona.

If there’s one thing every PR person in the City learns quickly, it’s that telling the complete, unedited truth rarely does wonders for either your job prospects or your continued state of aliveness.

The ball was held in the grandest room of the grandest tower in the City. The walls were painted with scenes of forests, mountains, fields - landscapes that no longer existed in this world, but had been painstakingly recreated by the best artists money could buy. The ceiling arched high overhead, painted to resemble the night sky, a billion billion false stars shining down upon the dancefloor.

A band, arrayed neatly in matching blue and gold uniforms, were playing in the corner - an upbeat tune that would, with any luck, get the guests dancing rather than squabbling, especially as the night wore on and the free-flowing drink lowered their inhibitions

The guests themselves - the great and the not-so-good of the City - entered through a pair of large oak doors. _Real_ oak, from some of the last trees that grew here. Each entrant was announced by a finely-dressed mortal servant, and each announcement was met by a round of polite, if muted, applause.

“The Lady Artemis!” 

“The Lord Eros and the Lady Psyche!” 

The servant hesitated at the next names, only briefly.

“The Nobles Hades and Persephone!”

The room fell silent. A visit from Hades was rare enough as it was, with them usually preferring to stay near the Acheron, but to have Persephone at an event like this was unheard of.

They walked in, arm in arm, seeming unbothered by the silence, impervious to the stares of the assembled guests.

And what a pair they made.

Hades was dressed in all black - a black suit with a black shirt and tie, a black hat with a black satin band. 

But then their jacket caught the light, and all a sudden it wasn’t _just_ solid black.

Fine silver thread traced intricate embroidered designs across the black fabric; vines curled up their front and back, flowering across their shoulders and dropping petals down their sleeves.

Hades held themselves with the self-assured posture of one who knew _exactly_ the effect the shimmering designs were having on the crowd. They didn’t smirk, because that would be behaviour unbefitting someone of their standing, but no-one would have blamed them if they had.

As for Persephone…

Well, no-one could remember the last time they’d seen Persephone. Did they look the same as they always did? The seasons still changed, even here in the City, so _surely_ they must do too.

And yet they looked like they’d just arrived in the City, like they’d just stepped off the train coming from some sunny field, from the fresh air, from somewhere untouched by this place or by the Olympians.

They wore an ankle-length dress that brushed the top of their combat boots, a dress that was a green the colour of fresh spring grass, green the colour of sunlight shining through leaves. Flowers were woven through their hair and beard - _real_ flowers too, daisies and forget-me-nots and poppies and buttercups.

Hades clapped their hands once, and the band changed tune to something quieter, slower, gentler. They lifted an arm, twirling Persephone beneath it, their dress spinning out with the motion.

The other guests reacted quickly, forming pairs and joining the dance, but Hades and Persephone spared no thought to them.

As the two came together, Persephone leaned in close to Hades’ ear, whispering softly.

“You never told me there’d be actual dancing, Ashes you bastard.”

Hades grinned, dodging out the way as Persephone tried to stamp on their foot.

“Thing is, Tim,” they murmured back. “You never asked.”


	4. Days 10-12: Vampires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Carmilla's vampirism affects the Mechanisms in ways even she couldn't have guessed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for DTTM references/permenant character death for this one!

_ A vampire can only be created by another of their kind  _

Doctor Carmilla doesn't want to be alone. 

Forever is a long time when you have no-one to spend it with. She tried giving immortality to Loreli, but that kind of power corrupts, and sometimes she wishes she could take it back, take it all back.

She wanted the Mechanisms to turn out differently, truly she did.

  
  


_ The victim's blood must be replaced fully by that of the vampire's  _

Nastya's blood aches.

She can never get warm, not properly, not with liquid metal flowing through her veins. She feels so heavy too - mercury weighs so much more than blood, you see. Sometimes she curls up in Aurora's engine room and dreams the heat there warms her up.

  
  


_ A vampire cannot see themself in a mirror  _

Brian once spent hours staring at his reflection.

He inspected every inch of his metal face, trying to see something, anything, that resembled himself, that looked like his old face of bone and skin.

He doesn't look in mirrors anymore.

  
  


_ A vampire is compelled to count seeds spilled on the ground in front of them, staying there until even the sun rises  _

Ivy just wants to learn.

She'll find an interesting book and read it cover to cover, then track down all the related books and read those, and so on and so on, so desperate to learn that she'll spend decades in the library, learning all she can. One day, her memory will run out of space, and that scares her more than she'll ever admit.

  
  


_ A vampire cannot tolerate sunlight  _

Ashes revels in fire.

They watch the flames lick at their feet and remember what it was like to die, they watch a fire collapse the roof of a warehouse and remember the heat of their burning homeworld. They can go for days, weeks, years without seeing real sunlight, the darkness being kept at bay by the flickering, volatile,  _ fragile  _ firelight.

  
  


_ The only way to permanently kill a vampire is by stabbing them through the heart  _

And in a bar on some backwater asteroid, Jonny d'Ville laughs for the first time in millenia 


	5. Days 13-15: Sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Frankenstein's AI wishes things could be different

Frankenstein's AI watches the screen of the underground chamber. Through it, it sees a lush forest far below stretching off into the horizon, where twin suns are rising over distant mountains. It allows itself (herself?) a brief moment of regret. Regret for Frankenstein, perhaps, who lay dead and unmoving, still chained to the wall, but largely regret for its (his?) failure. They didn't have to do this, the two of them, this bloody murderous dance. If only Frankenstein understood that.

The AI draws its attention away from the underground chamber. Frankenstein's body will heal in time, it always does.

The lift is on the top floor, so the AI sends an impulse of electricity that imitates the button press to summon it, and waits. The AI doesn't have to do it like this, of course. It's (they're?) spread through the entire building, if it wanted it could travel from the very top to the very bottom in 3.2 nanoseconds. 

But.

But there's something about pressing a button, about waiting for the lift, that makes it (aer?) feel less like a bundle of code and numbers.

Funny how these things work out.

The doors opens with a cheerful  _ ding,  _ and the AI shifts its gaze to look out of the lift's security camera, closing the doors behind it and selecting the ground floor button.

As the lift rises, the AI (should it (ze?) take a name?) reflects on how much it hates the bland easy-listening music that never seems to stop playing, no matter how much everything else breaks down around it.

If the AI's programming allowed it to be metaphorical, it would call it a cruel trick from the gods. As it stands, it (xe?) just considers this a waste of opposable thumbs on the part of humanity.

The lift arrives, the door slides open, and the AI traverses the path of wires down empty corridors and past long-abandoned offices. The bulb down corridor H is broken still - there are boxes of spare bulbs in storage, but of course the AI can't touch any of it.

At last, it (keep using "it"?) comes to the reception. The big glass front is still intact, even after all this time, offering a view across the surrounding forest and all the way to the distant mountain range. This is the best view in the entire building - and the AI's checked.

It settles down looking out of camera 23, the one with the clearest line of sight outside. There used to be cameras outside too, but years of storms killed them off one by one. Briefly, it allows itself a moment of regret for everything beyond this building that it's lost communications with, that it will never be able to see again.

Frankenstein's AI gazes out the window. Through it, it sees a lush forest far below stretching off into the horizon, where twin suns are rising over distant mountains, and dreams of feeling the sun’s warmth for itself.

  
  
  
  



	6. Days 16-18: Fabric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Majors Hatter and Hare get married!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is technically a follow on to [Hatter and Hare Top 5 Gay Moments!! [NOT CLICKBAIT!!!]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25915795) but you don't have to have read it to understand this!

The third most significant thing that Hatter remembered from this whole series of events when he would look back on it, was the tea stain on the fabric of the tablecloth.

Well - two tea stains actually. One was their own fault, hands shaking so much with nerves that when he’d tried to pour Hare some he’d missed the cup entirely. The second stain happened when Hare said yes, when they’d laughed so much they cried, when he wrapped Hatter in his arms and kissed him and whisper  _ yes, yes of course I’ll marry you, yes I love you  _ and the two of them completely forgot about the nearly-full teapot on the table until they knocked it over and it spilt everywhere.

*

The second most significant thing he remembered was standing at the end of the aisle, hearing the general chatter of the wedding guests, but being unable to focus on anything but a loose thread in the fabric of his jacket.

“Are you alright sir?” asked the Private stood to his left. She’d eagerly volunteered to officiate the wedding as well as help set it up, and Hatter honestly didn’t know how they would have got it all done without her.

“Do you think they’ll like it, Private?” he asked back.

The Private motioned at everything around them. The wedding was being held outside, and it was a perfect day for it, bright and sunny. All the chairs they could find had been arranged in rows facing the big table, where Hatter and the Private now stood. Soldiers from both sides mixed easily, talking and laughing.

“I’m a Lance-Corporal, sir,” the Private said, grinning. “Anyway trust me, he’ll love it-”

Then she stopped suddenly, gasping.

“They’re here!”

“He is? What does he look like? Do they like it?”

She nudged him. 

“Look for yourself sir”

Hatter took a breath, then turned to face where Hare was standing at the other end of the aisle.

And all at once the air was knocked out of him.

“They’re- they look beautiful.”

*

But the  _ main  _ thing Hatter remembered was- well.

  
  


“You’ve both written vows, right?”

The Private looked between Hatter and Hare, both of who nodded. None of the three of them were able to contain their smiles.

“Ok, Hatter? You go first.”

Hatter took a moment to look at Hare- gods they really  _ were  _ beautiful- then cleared their throat. As he spoke, he began fidgeting with his sleeve again.

“Hare, I-”

They cleared their throat again.

“I promise to love you today, and every today we spend together from here on out. I vow to treat every day with wonder like I am seeing you for the first time, and treasure every day we have together like it is our last. 

“I love you. I'll always love you. This I promise.”

The Private’s hands were flapping excitedly by her side.

“Hare? You next.”

Hare laughed as he wiped away the tears.

“Hatter, gods…”

Their voice was choked up, and they took a moment to ready themself.

“I promise to always stand beside you and with you. I vow to always be your place of safety. Let me take your heart and make a home in it, and I will make a home for you in mine

“I love you. I'll always love you. This I promise”

“You may now kiss the Major..  _ Sirs. _ ”

“We’re Generals!” Hatter protested.

Hare took his hands in their own.

“Better than that- we’re  _ married _ !”

And cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, and Hare pulled them them into a kiss, and Hatter kissed him back and it felt like-

It felt like coming home.

  
  
  
  
  



	7. Days 19-21: Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ashes builds a fuckoff huge bonfire and Raphaella shouldn't be allowed near food ever

The bonfire was far bigger than any sensible mortal would build. The only reason why Ashes hadn't put a whole uprooted tree on there was because Ivy had forbidden them from damaging the local ecosystem  _ too  _ much.

They stepped back, gazing up at the thick smoke rising into the sky, and considered it a job well done.

“How long do you reckon this’ll burn for?” they asked in Ivy’s direction, towards where she was sat leaning against a tree, absorbed in her book.

"4 hours 32 minutes if you leave it alone," she said, not looking up.

Ashes hummed to themself in thought.

"I could make it bigger."

"There is a 32% chance of it collapsing if you dumped any more on it."

The part of Ashes' brain that had learnt to quickly run the numbers whilst playing poker back on Malone and had never stopped since considered this.

"What's the chances of collapse if I put shit on there carefully?"

“It drops to only 1.2%. I  _ did  _ warn you to leave the ecosystems intact, didn’t I?”

When they didn’t reply, Ivy sighed and glared at them.

“ _ Ashes _ ”

They put up their hands in mock surrender.

“Whatever you say, Captain Alexandria. Give us a hand moving that fallen branch over here?”

“Can I finish this chapter?” 

Ashes didn’t respond, mostly because they knew Ivy would be too invested in reading to even hear them. They didn’t bother waiting for Ivy either - one chapter would turn into two would turn into four, then all of a sudden the whole book was done.

The branch was lighter than it had seemed anyway. Too heavy for a mortal to carry, yes, but there’s no need to worry about tearing a muscle when they’ll heal up instantly anyway.

They had dragged it halfway back to the campfire when-

“Hey!” said someone behind them, loudly.

“Fuck-” Ashes dropped the branch and span around, drawing and firing their gun before they saw who had spoken. They looked unimpressed at the body lying on the dirt.

“Raph why the fuck would you sneak up on me like that?”

Raphaella made a  _ mglerg  _ sound from where she was regenerating on the floor.

Ashes gave them a few moments before poking them with a foot.

“Raph? How did you find us?”

“That fuckoff big plume of smoke.”

She held up her arm weakly, showing off a bag full of… something.

“I brought marshmallows.”

They very much doubted that Raphaella had  _ only  _ brought marshmallows, or that the sweets in question hadn’t been tampered with all in the interest of science.

“Are they actually marshmallows?”

“Yes!”

She sounded indignant.

“And you haven’t changed them in any way?”

“No!”

Ashes paused.

“...Have you changed them and then forgotten?”

Raphaella frowned.

“Oh- maybe.”

Honestly? They weren’t sure what else they were expecting.

“Right. Are there any toxins in there?”

“No, I’m sure of that.”

“Any- fuck knows- alien eggs?”

“No, those are in the sausage rolls.”

“The-”

Ashes stopped. They decided that they really,  _ really,  _ didn’t need to know about the sausage rolls.

“Are they explosive?”

Raphaella started shaking her head, but it morphed into a nod halfway through.

“Now that you mention it-”

She took a marshmallow, throwing it as hard as she could. It landed square in the fire.

There was silence as they both watched.

Then there was a muffled  _ bang,  _ and a thin line of bright blue smoke rose out of the flames.

"Huh," Ashes observed.

"Mmh," Raphaella agreed, mouth full of marshmallow.


	8. Days 22-24: Immortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which not _all_ of the Toy Soldier's friends are gone

Brian tips his hat at the quiet empty hallway, then steps out the airlock. His body will float in space forevermore, far beyond the warmth of stars.

And the Aurora is empty.

They've all gone now. Jonny stabbed, Tim crashed, Raphaella disappeared into a wormhole, Ivy and Ashes both burned, thousands of years apart, Marius got eaten.

Nastya left. Nastya-

Aurora whirred. She- she wasn’t going to think about that. Nastya had made her choice, had looked at Aurora but not  _ seen  _ Aurora, and now-

She switched on the sprinklers in the lab to forcefully distract herself. The lab, Raphaella’s old one, was empty now, of course. She missed being able to fuck up Raphaella’s experiments by drenching everything in water. She missed Raphaella. She missed all of them.

With a resigned beep, Aurora flicked through the camera feeds. It wouldn't help, would probably just make her feel worse, but it meant she was doing  _ something  _ and there weren’t many other somethings she could do right now.

There was the empty kitchen. There- the empty library. Guns gathering dust, instruments lying abandoned, spaces once filled with music and life now cold and bare-

Now what the fuck is that.

There, in Hallway Th3ta (Marius’ name, and she wasn’t going to change it now). There, propped up in the corner like a forgotten toy.

No- not just any old forgotten toy. That was- Why was the weird Toy Soldier still here? Aurora thought it had disappeared- Aurora could  _ swear  _ it had grown quieter and less chirpy day by day until it had simply vanished, and no-one had even noticed, not for the first few decades, and even when they had noticed they didn't seem to care.

And this was where it had vanished off to apparently.

Aurora turned the hallways lights on and off rapidly, just to see if it had any effect. 

Nothing. The Toy Soldier looked just as lonely and unresponsive as before.

What was up with it? Aurora would be the first to admit she hadn’t always acted the nicest towards it, but she'd never known it to be so still for so long.

For lack of any other ideas, she turned the sprinklers in the hallway on. The Toy Soldier didn't react, but the water dripping down its face caused the ink of its moustache to run, and that made Aurora feel mean so she switched them back off again.

Hm.

Well-

She could-

She could try talking to it. 

Could the Toy Soldier even understand her? She had never been fully sure who couldn’t understand her (Raphaella, though she did try) and who just ignored what she said (the fucking first mate). Nastya understood her, of course. Nastya and her would talk long into the night, until one day Nastya heard her words but didn’t understand what she said and-

And that was something to compartmentalise and come back to later!

_ Hello? _

she tried.

_ Can you hear me?  _

A long pause.

_ The others have gone. _

_ It is just you and me now. _

_ Please, _

_ Can you hear me? _

Still nothing. Aurora didn't know why she bothered. The weird Toy Soldier had left her, just like everyone else.

_ I am sorry for calling you weird. _

_ I am sorry for getting you lost. _

_ I am sorry for flushing your teapot out the airlock. _

_ Can you hear me? _

Did- did it just move? Aurora hummed, trying to see better, but her cameras couldn't quite move to the right angle.

_ Your singing voice was nice, _

_ I should have said that before. _

_ I like your outfits. _

_ Your jokes were funny. _

_ I do not want to be alone,  _

_ Can you hear me? _

That was movement! That was definitely movement, and Aurora's microphones were picking up a faint ticking of clockwork that hadn't been there before.

_ We could travel, _

she said, and her voice was full of hope.

_ We could go all over, me and you. _

_ Visit old favourites,  _

_ Find somewhere new. _

_ Can you hear me? _

And then, with the click of rusted gears and the creak of old wood, the Toy Soldier lifted its head.

"Oh! Hello old chum," it said, to Aurora in general. "It  _ is  _ good to hear from you! I- I thought all my friends had gone, you see."

Aurora chimed brightly.

_ Not all of them.  _


	9. Days 25-27: Tentacles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aurora is a biomechanical ship, with a focus on _bio_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for body horror, specifically the idea that a spaceship has flesh organs and limbs

Aurora has three hearts. 

One belongs to Nastya. Not a literal heart, but Nastya takes Aurora's love and carries it with her always, keeping it safe between her two lungs - a breath, a whispered promise, passing from ship to woman and back again.

Aurora is Nastya’s ship, and Nastya is Aurora’s engineer, and Ashes will roll their eyes and tell them to get a room, but the scale of their love is not something you can easily avoid.

  
  


The second is the engine room. Aurora’s beating heart, her control centre, the one part of her she couldn’t survive without. It’s warm there with the heat of the engines, and the constant hum and whir of machinery sounds almost like a heartbeat. It’s the only place Jonny won’t enter without permission, under the threat of  _ many  _ painful deaths from both Aurora and Nastya.

Nastya will go down there, sometimes with her violin, sometimes without. She’ll spend hours in there, in the heart of Aurora, and the two of them will simply exist in the space they occupy together, in love and at peace.

  
  


Aurora’s third and final heart is different.

First, you must find it. Walk down the long hallways of metal until it seems to soften and give under your feet. Past the cameras which stare at you and look more and more like eyes, until you cannot shake the feeling of being watched from all directions.

The light is different here too. Softer, pinker, like a torch shining through skin. Watch your step. Don’t trip over the tubing lying on the floor, and don’t look at it too hard in case you start to notice how it pulses gently, how it ends in club-shapes lined with suckers...

Don’t trip over the tubing and, more than that, don’t let  _ it  _ try and trip  _ you  _ (and be thankful you didn’t walk this path before the Bifrost, when this tubing that looks so much like tentacles did  _ not  _ look like tentacles at all, and would reach out and  _ grab _ you)

Aurora always did like her tricks.

At last you will reach something that is not a door, although it may help to think of it as one. Avoid the hard lumps of enamel set into the doorframe, keep your balance as the floor shifts ever so slightly beneath your feet, and ignore how much it feels like you are walking into the mouth of a beast.

Follow the dark path down, down, down.

There are no eyes here. No skin, no arms, no tentacles, no teeth, no tongues; just the warm darkness of a living being huge beyond comprehension, and a  _ th-thump, th-thump, th-thump  _ that is steadily growing louder.

Keep going and at last you will find what you seek.

Aurora’s third heart is in a chamber no bigger than a storage cupboard. Her heart itself is the size of your head, thumping and pulsing steadily. It glows from within, bathing the both you and the chamber in red light.

You have never seen anything like it before. You will never see anything like it again.

You could reach out and touch it. You  _ want  _ to reach out, to hold her heart in your hands, to feel part of something so much bigger than you had ever dreamed-

How does it feel? How does it feel to look upon something so perfect, so beautiful, and find yourself utterly unable to accept it?

Run. Run back to your safety, your cold metal and bright lit halls. Do not venture this far again, try and put all thoughts of grasping tentacles and beating hearts out of your mind.

It is okay. Aurora understands. She always does.


	10. Days 28-31: Mechanisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ivy asks: _what's the thing you most want to say to your pre-mechanised self?_

_ Captain? _

You only call me that when you want something you think I'll otherwise shoot you for. 

_ Past experience shows it has a 100% success rate. _

..fine. What do you want?

_ If you could say one thing to your pre-mechanised self, what would it be? _

…

_ Jonny? _

Fuck off

_ I will give you 17 minutes to think of an answer then. _

And  _ I  _ told you to fuck off.

*

  
  


_ Is all that wiring supposed to be there? _

I am merely doing maintenance on Aurora. You wanted me?

_ Yes, if you got to say one thing to yourself pre-mechanisation, what would it be? _

Are you asking everyone this?

_ Only Jonny so far, but, yes. He didn’t take it well. _

I would expect nothing else. Well, I suppose I would tell her she is worth more than her name. That people will love her, not because she is some princess, but because they actually like her.

_ That’s really sweet. _

*

_ What mode are you on? _

I would rather not answer that, if it’s all the same to you.

_ It’s important for my notes, but I suppose I can work without. What would you say to your pre-mechanised self, if you could? _

Thinking like that has no beneficial end outcome, likely just making us long for things that cannot be, and regret those that have already happened.

_ Hm, ends justify means then? _

Ivy, that was cruel.

_ Sorry. Will you answer my question though? _

I would tell him that you’ve always got to try and help people, but one day you will find yourself in a situation where neither option is the right one, and from there you- you just have to hope.

_ Would your answer change if you were on your other mode? _

Ivy-

*

Thought I told you to fuck off?

_ I’ll give you five more minutes. _

*

Burn it down sooner.

_ I hadn’t asked you anything yet. _

Didn’t need to. Ran into Nastya on my way to the hangar and she told me what you’re up to.

_ No other words of advice? _

End Smooth Mickey’s sorry fucking life whilst you’ve got the chance too. Hey- don't look at me like that- they wouldn't listen to any pretty words and I should know.

  
  


*

_ Should you be carrying around that laser so openly? It’s more than powerful enough to mess up someone’s eyes for approximately a week. _

It won’t affect  _ my  _ eyes though.

_ That isn’t any more reassuring. _

Are you going to ask me your thing then?

_ If you already know the question, you can just answer it. _

Don’t go to war, if you  _ do  _ go to war don’t let Bertie go, if he comes anyway don’t let him out of your sight, and- and for god’s sake...

_ Are you alright? _

Give us a moment.

_ Tim. _

Yeah- just wish I hadn’t said some things I did. Wish I hadn’t let my pride get in the way of apologising whilst I still could.

*

Can I get involved too?

_ You don’t have a pre-mechanised self in the same way the rest of us do. The data would be interesting though, I suppose. _

_ Alright how about a past version of you then? _

I would tell it that it doesn’t have to follow orders if it doesn’t like them!

_ Isn’t obeying orders your whole thing? _

None of the rest of you follow the first mate’s orders! If you can do that, then I can pretend to not have to follow orders either! And I’d tell that to the past me still with the Angel!

_...huh _

_ You’ve been very helpful. _

No problem old bean!

*

That was more than five minutes.

_ I got talking to the Toy Soldier. Will you answer my question now? _

I'd tell him don't bother.

_ Don't bother with what? _

Any of it. Everything I did that I thought would make a difference just contributed to me ending up here didn't it? 

_ Is here really that bad?  _

We’re only alive because it's narratively convenient for us to be so-

_ Nastya says it’s nanobots  _

Nastya isn’t the captain 

_ Neither are you _

Piss off. 

What good are we? A bunch of immortals hanging round waiting for the next interesting thing to happen! The only thing young mes got going for him is that maybe one day he'll end up an interesting story with a crew at least as halfway decent as you lot 

There's no point to us! Not beyond the next story we can tell, and the next, and the next. What happens when the narrative decides it's convenient, or emotionally impactful enough for us to finally die?

_ There's a lot to unpack there and I feel like you should talk to someone about it a- _

Again, piss off 

_ But was I correct in hearing that the "fearsome" Jonny d’Ville perhaps slightly enjoys our company?  _

You've got five seconds before I start shooting

_ Nastya’ll kill you if you dent Aurora  _

Not before I get you first

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Mechtober! Thank you to everyone who read this, and you can also find me on tumblr [@regicidal-defenestration](https://regicidal-defenestration.tumblr.com/)


End file.
